Family Trip
by theproletariatdontdeservecake
Summary: Jace spent most of his life knowing nothing about his parents or history, so he drags his family around the multiverse, trying to make sure his child never has that problem. Liliana is much happier to indulge him than their daughter is. (Don't confuse Vivian with Vivien Reid (who isn't in this story anyway). I named my character before Reid was introduced and I stand by it.)


The manors were all so tediously alike—ruined opulence, faded heraldry, a few mournful geists—and this one was no different. It had belonged (according to the moth-eaten crests hanging from the walls) to the Slogars, one of the dozen or so families that made up the Moorland's nobility.

Not that it mattered in any meaningful way, of course. The lords of the Moorland were as indistinguishable as their estates—inbred, self-important demon-worshippers—each the head of their own cult, boasting boons of supposedly immeasurable power from whichever demon they'd chosen to patronize.

Liliana gave a derisive snort. If the families were half as powerful as they all claimed they were, surely, they'd still be around.

It had taken her daughter all of five seconds to come to the same conclusion.

"Mom?"

_Speak of the deviless._ Vivian sauntered in, the embodiment of disinterest, her long braid swishing behind her as she approached.

"Why are we here?"

It was a good question. The answer was that Jace had spent most of his life knowing nothing about his parents or where he'd come from (perils of being a mindmage, Liliana thought, reminded yet again of how idiotic Jace's brand of magic could be) and he'd taken it upon himself to ensure that their daughter would never have the same problem.

"Because your father wants you to—"

"—know your history," Vivian finished with her. "I _know_, mom…" She rolled her eyes. "You and dad keep saying… But why are we _here_? It's just another ruin." She pulled the side of her mouth upwards as she studied the cracked frescoes. "It's not even a nice one."

She was right, of course. The place was, as manors went, decidedly unremarkable.

Liliana gave a quiet chuckle. They'd been going on these little family trips for years, ever since Vivian could planeswalk.

She remembered the first one, walking through the Caligo Morass, their then four-year-old daughter sitting on her father's shoulders, listening raptly to her mother's stories about bog-wights and skin witches and the childish things her mother and Uncle Josu used to get up to, back when the swamp was still a forest.

They traversed the jungles around Orzaca, the whole family huddled together to fit atop the palm of the giant lizard they'd bewitched to carry them around.

They watched the brightly colored games on Kylem, which Liliana never cared for (a bloodless coliseum? No, thank you) but which Vivian enjoyed immensely, especially when three hundred thousand spectators let loose their confetti at the end of the match.

They attended the inventor's fair in Ghirapur, where Vivian was more interested in chasing after frightened gremlins than she was in the inventions, or in her father's story about the time they all saved everyone in the city.

Liliana smiled at the memories. Jace had run out of places of historical significance years ago and, at this point, their planar visits were less about family history and more about family time.

On the one hand, she had nothing against family time—truth be told, she'd come to rather enjoy their little excursions (Jace always got so excited)—but she'd lost count of the number of times they'd been to Innistrad since Vivian's spark had ignited, and she _really _didn't need to hear the story of how they saved _this _plane again.

But on the other hand, their daughter was intelligent, beautiful, and impatient and she was getting to the age where that combination of traits would be a problem if left to her own devices. If Vivian was anything like her mother, it was better that she be where they could keep an eye on her, instead of out and about on Kaladesh with that outsized hormone Chandra and the Beefslab were raising.

Besides, there were worse places to be than on a plane full of corpses and masterless horrors and _deliciously _dark mana.

"Have you seen the specter that lives here?" Liliana asked, changing the subject.

Vivian gave her mother a look, sighed, snapped her fingers, and pointed lazily at the ruined ceiling.

A sudden chill permeated the air and the shadows in the room began to shift, seeping in through cracks in the walls and reaching into the air above them, unfolding itself across the ceiling, until a gaunt, vaguely human face pushed itself through the center of the darkness.

Thin, stumpy arms reached through after it, pulling more of the wraith through the wisping canopy to reveal a torso as crocodilian as it was incorporeal.

The specter hung over them, regarding them with hollow eyes.

"It feeds on despair… I think." Vivian said, grimacing at the phantom and shuddering slightly. "But I can't be sure. It's not very bright and there's nothing in its head that I can understand, except that it's always been here, and that it's always hungry."

She gave a dismissive wave and the darkness above them retreated, the apparition folding into itself and away through a crevice in the ruined ceiling.

Liliana felt herself smile at how easily her daughter had commanded the specter. She'd never in two hundred years thought she'd be a mother, much less a proud one.

"Mom, I'm _bored,_" Vivian whined. "I know you and dad like visiting old places but we've already been here like, _five times._ I mean… not _here _here, but here on Innistrad... and I've _already _heard the story about how you saved this plane and… Mom, _really, _I get it—you and dad are both heroes and you're both powerful mages, and I should learn from that, but…" she paused to breathe, then, almost pleading in her exasperation, "can I _pleeease _go now?"

Liliana laughed and snaked an arm around her daughter's shoulder (when did Vivian get so tall?). "Your father means well, dear. Indulge him for another half hour." She gave the shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Besides, I'm sure he'll want to leave once he finds the specter." She grinned. "He's never been fond of crocodiles."

She looked around. "Where _is_ your father, anyway?"

Through the ceiling they heard a yelp, a thud, and several hurried creaks. Then, still muffled but significantly louder, they heard Jace cry out.

Liliana snapped toward her daughter, whose expression and tone immediately turned defensive. "I didn't do that!" Vivian said.

Then cheekily, she ventured, "but does that mean we get to go now?"

Liliana snorted and, encouraged by her mother's amusement, Vivian pulled opened a door between worlds. Through its shimmering violet hue, Liliana saw not Chandra and Gideon's home on Kaladesh, but the spiraling stairs and endless shelves of Jace's library—their library—back home on Ravnica.

She really was Jace's daughter, Liliana thought, taking comfort in the notion. Better that Vivian took after him than her (not that Liliana would ever admit that out loud).

Vivian gave her a hopeful grin. "_Please, _mom?"

Upstairs, Jace bellowed again, followed by a crash and the sound of a commotion. Flashes of blue shone through the holes in the ceiling; clearly, he'd chosen to try and fight the apparition himself.

"Go," she relented with a smile. "I'll make sure your father doesn't hurt himself."

The grin widened, Vivian strode through the door, and both the girl and the library disappeared.

Liliana shook her head and chuckled.

Then she gathered mana to herself and began up the staircase to find Jace.


End file.
